When Men Cannot
by Aromene
Summary: Dis carries on and does not – except in the dark hours of the morning – let herself wonder at what life they might have had, if they had dreamed of things other than gold.


**Disclaimer: Twelve years on, it's still not mine. But more and more Peter Jackson is putting his stamp on it. This one, however, is Tolkien's.**

**AN: The Case of the Evolving Fic, by which I mean that it started out as one thing and half way through got suitably depressing. Which is about the time Grav started posting her Dwalin/Dis fic. In other words, I blame her. My fics generally reflect my moods, which generally reflect what I'm reading. **

**This one is especially vague as to who Dis' husband is. **

**Summary: Dis carries on and does not – except in the dark hours of the morning – let herself wonder at what life they might have had, if they had dreamed of things other than gold.**

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Dis doesn't trust Dwalin with her sons. She has a good reason for this. She found him teaching Fili to swing a hand axe three days after the dwarfling learned to walk. By the time Kili comes along, Dwalin is not allowed to be alone with the boys.

She doesn't trust Thorin either. Though she does trust him not to attempt to teach toddlers how to wield weapons. Rather, she doesn't trust Thorin to notice that said toddlers are trying to wield weapons _on their own_. The perils of an uncle who works a blacksmiths' living and lives in memories of another life.

Dis does not even put much trust in Balin who, though certainly responsible enough to look after the boys, cannot keep up with them. Which means that by the time Kili is able to run the two of them can escape Balin in about five seconds and be off _wielding weapons on their own_.

Dis spends most of her time after Kili is born looking after her sons, because there's no one else around by then to do so. She does not allow herself to lament the fact that their father should be there to look after them instead. To watch them grow and to teach them to be warriors of the House of Durin. Dis does not wallow. She is a princess of the royal line and she is quite capable of looking after two sons, at least until the boys can be trusted not to stab themselves with a blade by accident.

It doesn't happen anytime soon, for certain. One boy was enough work and Dis is only too happy that Kili came along five years later, because she cannot imagine having to chase after i_wo_ of them at the same time. By the time Kili learns to walk, Fili is old enough to at least know that fire burns, metal is sharp and falling hurts. It does _not_ mean he refrains from getting into trouble, of course, as dwarflings do, but it does mean that Dis doesn't worry quite as much about him. She can expend that on the smaller brother instead. Because Kili _loves_ to get into things. He'll crawl into any hole, no matter how small and won't come out for any reason, not even the return of Mahal himself. Dis spends a lot of the first few years on her knees shouting into tiny spaces while Fili laughs and Thorin – when he notices – arches a brow and seems to think the whole thing is pretty normal. If Kili's in a hole, he's not likely to be out hurting himself, at least.

Dis is not amused. Thorin's parenting skills are severely lacking. When she does consider that it makes her sad, because the boys _should_ be Thorin's own, rather than nephews he must father in place of another. Unfortunately that less than stable relationship means that Thorin usually turns a blind eye to the boys, because he _isn't_ their father and at the same time, his sister laments that he isn't. Thorin should have strong sons to rule after him. Thorin does not feel there is anything to rule and therefore no need of sons to inherit a forge. Fili and Kili can do that quite well themselves.

It's an ongoing argument. It has been an ongoing argument between sister and brother since the day they fled Erebor and became homeless. It continued to be an argument long after they settled in Ered Luin and Dis stepped forward to lead their people, while Thorin was off making enough money to keep them fed. Dwarves can build houses in stone if you give them a chisel and a rock, but growing food in the mountains is a great deal harder. Dis does not begrudge her brother his role in this, and she should not complain that their people look to her to lead them, after Moria – after Thrain and Thror and a new sense of pain they have not known before – and to keep them safe, as Thorin and others keep them fed.

The argument does not stop. Thorin will return for months on end, taking up residence in the communal forge to work on commissions that do not require his presence in the villages of northern men, or to help on commissions too large for one dwarf to manage alone. When he is there, it is acceptable. Dis can pretend that things are all right. Can pretend that she does not hurt when he is gone, does not hate him just a wee bit when he leaves each time. She can pretend that her boys have a father-figure for whom they will one day rule after. She can pretend they have a home.

Thorin cannot pretend. They argue over that a great deal. Dis is happy, or at least content with what they now have. It is better than wandering Middle Earth, lamenting what they have lost. Their people are safe in Ered Luin. They have work and food and a place to raise their young warriors. For Thorin, it spells an end; he feels they are giving in to the inevitable. Two homes lost, two kings dead, and Thorin has been left to pick up the pieces. He hates it, Dis knows. Hates his grandfather who brought them to this as much as the dragon that engineered it all and as much as the elves that refused to help. But mostly, Dis knows, Thorin hates himself. The reason is meaningless, of course, but she can see it in his eyes whenever he doesn't know she's looking.

So Dis carries on. She crawls around after Kili into dark holes, reminds Fili that he is not yet old enough for his first sword, cleans and sews and cooks and does not – except in the dark hours of the morning – let herself wonder at what life they might have had, if they had dreamed of things other than gold.


End file.
